


A Terrible Matchmaking Affair

by jungyoonoh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, I almost forgot that that’s not canon when it should be, M/M, Mostly Epilogue Compliant, Oh and Harry’s a DADA professor instead of an auror, a little cracky, background Ginny/Luna - Freeform, everyone got married for the new gen but also divorced because gay rights sksksk, i’m too sleep deprived for this so i didn’t know how to end it forgive me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungyoonoh/pseuds/jungyoonoh
Summary: “You need to tell him, Dad.”Harry looked up to see his fifteen-year old son staring at him. He slowly put his quill he was holding back into the inkpot, and crossed his arms on the table.“Tell who what, James?”
Relationships: Harry Potter/George Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 165





	A Terrible Matchmaking Affair

“You need to tell him, Dad.”

Harry looked up to see his fifteen-year old son staring at him. He slowly put his quill he was holding back into the inkpot, and crossed his arms on the table. 

“Tell who what, James?”

“Uncle George!” His son lifted his arms exasperatedly. “You need to tell him how you feel before you implode!”

“How I- what?” Harry nearly shouted. “Have you been speaking to Auntie Luna?”

“Of course, I’ve been speaking to Auntie Luna. I have to every time I visit Mum, but that’s beside the point.” James summoned a chair so he could sit next to his dad. “I see how you look at him. I’m pretty sure it’s how I look at Teddy whenever I’m around him.”

That’s all well and good, but Harry didn’t see how his godson had anything to do with anything. After all, it’s not like James was... wait a second.

“Are you interested in Teddy?” Harry gaped at his son. How long had this been going on? Merlin, Harry really needed to start paying attention after he keeps missing important details. He’d almost missed out on his own divorce if it weren’t for Ron coming over with a six pack of Firewhiskey to say it wasn’t Harry’s fault that Ginny was gay. Meanwhile, James was looking smugly at his dad. “What?”

“So you agree?” James prodded. “You’re interested in Uncle George?”

Harry felt his cheeks turn pink. “No! We’re friends! We’re practically brothers!”

“Technically, you haven’t been brothers for the past 3 years.” The raven-haired boy pointed out. “And for the past 3 years, you’ve written hundreds of letters to him. And you spend every Hogsmeade trip hanging out with him!”

The older man stood up abruptly from his writing desk. “I’m not having this conversation with you,” He said, walking away so he didn’t have to face his son. “Get back to your dorm before I dock 10 points from Gryffindor.”

Even with his back turned, he could tell James was rolling his eyes. “You wouldn’t do that, McGonagall would kill you.” There was silence for a while, and Harry finally heard a sigh come from the teenager as he got up. “We want you to be happy, Dad. Me, Lily, Albus. You deserve to have a happy ending too.”

Slowly, Harry turned back around. Did he really hold feelings for George? He always brushed it off as brotherly feelings but George seemed so... special. The jitters he’d get at the pit of his stomach when he thought of him, the urge to at least touch his shoulders or pat his back. Was it obvious how he felt, even if he wasn’t aware of it? He looked at his son and thought about how perceptive he grew up to be, when Harry never was. His son seemed so much wiser.

“And,” James added as he walked out of his office, “Auntie Luna says Wursbugs will make people explode if they keep their feelings in for too long, so be careful.”

Nevermind.

James cracked a wide grin, similar to his mum’s, and waved. “See you in the morning, Dad!”

Harry let out the breath he was holding in as he walked back to his desk and looked at the letter he was writing before his son interrupted him. It was a letter to George, of course, detailing about how his week had been so far and how he couldn’t wait to visit the shop this weekend. God, James was right. He’d been over nearly every weekend. In retrospect, he was sure even Neville knew before him. He recalled the day Neville invited Harry to have a drink with the other professors at The Three Broomsticks and he’d blown him off to hang out with George. Neville had asked if things were serious and he’d replied that George had always been serious about his job, but if he must know, that George was coming out with a new line of long-distance pranks that he was particularly excited about. Neville just smiled and said he wished them the best of luck.

Harry groaned and mentally slapped himself at the memory. He was nearly forty, for goodness sake. He was way, way too old to be this oblivious and pining for his ex-brother-in-law. Maybe he shouldn’t be writing letters, at least, not until he’s got this whole thing figured out. He carefully folded the piece of parchment and pushed it out of the way. Sleep first, then he’ll think about it.

* * *

He never got around to thinking about it. Even when all his kids, and even Freddie and Roxanne gave him a Look throughout the week, he ignored them, thinking those had something to do with their DADA classes instead. It wasn’t till the day before the next Hogsmeade visit, when Freddie came up to Harry after his class to speak to him that he remembered anything about his conversation with James at all.

“Professor Potter?” Freddie had said. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

“You know you can call me Uncle Harry even when we’re in school, kid.” Harry had smiled as he leaned on his desk. “What’s the matter?”

“Are you mad at my dad?” Freddie asked, worriedly.

Harry blinked, and he felt his smile dropping. “No, of course I’m not, Freddie.” He coughed. “Did, did he say something?”

”He, uh,” The dark-skinned boy shifted his eyes. “He’d written to say that you hadn’t written to him in a while and he was worried it was something he’d said.”

“Oh, oh no, no,” Harry cleared his throat, “Nothing’s wrong, I just... Forgot.”

”Forgot?” Freddie’s forehead wrinkled. He looked oddly similar to his uncle, Percy, in that moment. “In the past seven years, you’ve never forgotten to write to him before.”

The older man felt his hands getting clammy, nervous in front of his nephew. Would he judge him if he said he was going through a mid-life gay crisis because of Freddie’s dad? Who was he kidding, of course he would.

Freddie sighed and looked at his uncle, steely. “Look, is it because James talked to you about Dad? If it is, you should know that Rox and I are all for it.”

Of course, he knew. At this point, he might as well shout to the whole world that- huh?

“You two... are okay with it?” Harry gaped.

“Well, yeah.” Freddie shrugged. “Mum and Dad have been divorced for even longer than you and Auntie Ginny have and we both think that it would do Dad a world of good to have someone around him. And we know that Dad wouldn’t want anybody else.”

A million things flew through Harry’s head. So his niece and nephew knows, and they’re in support of it. More importantly, they think that George would want him, of all people. But that can’t be right. Why would George, beautiful, incredible George, want him?

“Did he tell you?”

“No, but we just know,” Freddie nodded. “You should tell him, this weekend.” He walked out of the classroom.

His next class started filling up, and thankfully it was a class with only Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws so he didn’t have to deal with any of the Weasley clan playing matchmaker between him and George. Though, Harry suspected that if Teddy were still in school, he would join in as well. That settles it. Tomorrow, he’ll speak to George. In person, so he couldn’t run away from it anymore. That’s the Gryffindor spirit.

* * *

Harry stepped through the doors of the second Weasley Wizard’s Wheezes shop. It was smaller than their shop at Diagon Alley, and it was packed with young pranksters-to-be, as always. Some of Harry’s students waved at him, used to his presence in the store. Harry smiled at them, and strained his neck to find the ginger man he was looking for. It wasn’t particularly hard to miss 6 feet of Weasley, but it was harder to get to him without his noticing.

Thankfully, George was too preoccupied with his customers to notice the Man Who Lived making his way toward him. On the other hand, Harry had no idea what to say to him after essentially ignoring him for the past few weeks. When George finally looked up and saw him, his face lit up and he immediately broke out into a grin and stepped closer towards him.

“Harry!” George exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around the other man. “I didn’t think you would see me, I almost didn’t come to Hogsmeade.”

“Yeah, that’s... I’m sorry, by the way, I didn’t... Could we talk?” Harry asked, dumbly. He felt like his tongue was made of lead, heavy and forcing him to stumble over his words.

George didn’t seem to notice, instead looking at his sea of customers. “Well, I should be helping Elly with this crowd, so how about you wait for me in the backroom and I can take you for a drink, ay?”

Harry nodded, heading off towards the back before turning around and catching George’s gaze, a twinkle in his eye that sent a thrill down Harry’s spine. He said a quick “Hello” to the cashier, Eliza, before waiting in the back for George. He looked at the shelves of Shield Capes and Hats, remembering the days of the war when they were producing them like mad. They still sold to the Ministry, but less often now than before. He felt a mix of pride for George, and nervousness. What if he wasn’t good enough for him? Someone like George deserved someone equally as brilliant as he was, and Harry, a lowly professor, didn’t see himself as such. He may have been the Boy Who Lived, but now he was just the Man that Was.

“Deep in thought?” George asked as he popped in, grabbing his coat from a rack by the door. “You can tell me all about it at the Three Broomsticks, feels like we haven’t been there in ages.”

”Yes, well, and no.” Harry held his arm out and grabbed George’s. George stopped and turned to look at the shorter man curiously. “I’d rather we were in private for this.”

“Is it something I’d said?” George asked, “I tried asking Freddie but he said you’d tell me yourself. You know I’d never mean to hurt you, right?”

“Of course!” Harry’s eyes widened. “‘Sides, it wasn’t anything you’d said. It was me, I...” He trailed off, realising he was doing the whole ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ bit from Muggle movies. He shook his head. “James came up to me, the other day, and he said some things that were... interesting.”

George slowly nodded. “Yeah? What’d he say?”

“He said... Well, he told me that I should tell you how I felt,” Harry took a deep breath. “About you.””And... how do you feel about me?” George asked, poker-faced.

Well, it’s now or never, then. “I suspect that I’ve been in love with y-“

George didn’t let Harry finish his sentence before leaning down to capture his lips with his own. Harry instinctively raised his hand to grip George’s hair and pull him in closer. George’s tongue prodded against Harry’s lips, asking for entrance, and Harry let him in. George tasted like smoke and cranberries, and everything Harry wished he’d tasted all those years ago when kissing Ginny.

They eventually parted to take deep breaths, but they stayed pressed together, head to head. George lifted a hand to cup Harry’s cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.”

“Mmh?” Harry smiled lazily, still drunk on the kiss. “How long?”

“Since I was sixteen.”

Harry pulled back, shocked. “That long?” He almost yelled. “And you didn’t say anything?”

George scoffed, “Well, it’s not like I could just come out, then, could I?” He hugged Harry, resting his head on top of the other man’s. “I’m satisfied even if we took this long to get here.”

Harry breathed in the scent of the other man. Despite his meddling kids, he couldn’t deny the happiness he felt to be kissed and loved by George Weasley. From the corner of his eye, he swore he saw something move by the boxes of Extendable Ears. _James_. He nearly laughed out loud but held it in, he should preserve his son’s dignity. After all, he did get him to confess. Maybe his nosiness was good for something after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry this is so terribly written I’m literally writing it in the dead of night on an iPad. But I really like the idea of the kids playing matchmaker for George/Harry so I might do a proper fic from their perspective. One day, when my English gets better.
> 
> Edited to fix formatting


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